


It Belongs In The Fight

by Athena R R Lacey (princessofthesun)



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofthesun/pseuds/Athena%20R%20R%20Lacey
Summary: A young girl is eager to leave home to work as a nurse in World War One.





	It Belongs In The Fight

Clara hated fighting with her family, or what’s left of it. Her mother and brother seemed hell-bent on making sure she went nowhere near the war, despite Clara’s calm and logical arguments. The eighteen-year-old slammed the thick walnut door of her enormous (but suffocating) bedroom and leaned her head against the polished wood. The sigh that escaped her pursed lips brought all of the fight left in her body out with it. She was done. With her mother, George, all of it.

Six months ago today Nicholas had left her to fight with the Allied forces in Ypres. Clara wasn’t angry at him, she knew he had to go, her only regret was that she couldn’t accompany him. Clara wanted to help, and she knew she could. Two years previously she had trained as a nurse and worked for a year but stopped after the death of her father, her mother asking for help at home, and George couldn’t do it. Clara knew the real reason was Nicholas, who she had met when working in the hospital.

Clara’s family’s disapproval of Nicholas was their reason for keeping her here, she knew it. He would never live up to their standards, he was poor, how terrible. But he loved Clara, and Clara loved him. She would go to him, wherever he went, because he was her person, and she couldn’t be without him. She would survive, yes, and thrive even without him, but she was the master of her fate and wanted her future to be with the man she loved.

When Clara knew everyone had gone to bed that night, she slid her stocking-clad feet to the floor and crept down to the cloakroom at the back of the enormous farmhouse. Dust filled her mouth and nose as she carefully pulled the battered case from its place on the tightly packed shelf. Suitcase in hand, Clara made her way back up the elaborate oak staircase and into her room unnoticed. Once opened on the bed, the receptacle was quickly filled with clothes, the uniforms kept hidden away in her wardrobe since she stopped working. Two pairs of suitable shoes were included as well as a coat and scarf. Clara finally turned to her jewellery, not to wear, not as a nurse anyway, but gold would be easy to sell in case of emergencies. Job done, the case was stashed under her bed and she finally went to sleep, peacefully for the first time in six months.

Early the next morning Clara was woken by her mother’s maid opening her curtains and laying out her clothes for the day.  
“Is my mother awake yet?” Hope rose in Clara that she could get away unnoticed, sparing everyone the pain of seeing her leave.  
“Yes Miss, she is hoping you’ll join her for breakfast in the dining room.” The statement extinguished any possibility of an easy getaway.  
“I’ll be down shortly.”

Clara sat across from her brother as she slowly chewed on the crust of her bread. If she was slow enough, she could be sure George would be gone out for the day before she had to sneak out under her mother’s nose. Nothing was said about the previous evening’s row, it was forgotten as far as everyone could be concerned. Once George had finally finished his tea, Clara made her way out to the garage to find their driver reading the newspaper.  
“I’ll need a lift. To the train station, at twelve. Don’t tell my mother please.”  
“Of course Miss Clara, I’ll be outside the door.”

Two painful hours later, Clara made her way out of her room with her suitcase and her coat, a note left on her dressing table addressed to her mother. So deep in her thoughts, Clara didn’t notice the figure sitting on the bottom step of the stairs until a soft voice dragged her back into reality.  
“You’re going anyway.” It was George, of course it was. She should have known he’d figure her out. He always could.  
“I have to. I need to do something real, and Nicholas -”  
“I know. But come back. It’ll kill her, you know. If you don’t” Clara couldn’t read the expression on her brother’s face, but she knew he was right. Their mother wouldn’t survive losing a child, not now, not ever. Clara stepped down to the same level as her brother and wrapped her arms around his waist, expecting him to be angry, or force her to listen to him, but he hugged her back, the pressure on her shoulders welcome for once.  
“Come on, I’ll drive you.”

As the car pulled into the station yard, Clara saw her future laid out ahead of her, on the next train, but she saw the past she was leaving behind too, with her family and her childhood. George took her case from the boot of the car as Clara stepped out. As they walked through the building to the platform, George took something from his pocket that Clara couldn’t see.  
“I want you to take this. It’ll give you something to remember and it’ll give me something to pray for.” The red, blue and orange strap caught her eye first, and when she saw the late queen a gasp slipped from her throat.  
“I can’t take that, it was father’s. Mother will throw a fit when she finds out!” The medal was the last thing of their father’s they received after his retirement upon the birth of his second child.  
“It belongs in the fight. You’ll bring it home.”

Clara closed her eyes as the train approached. The deep breath she took did nothing to stop her nerves, but she opened her eyes anyway. The black steam engine threw a shadow over most of the platform, but through the windows, she could see the sun on the other side. After a moment, Clara stepped onto the train. The door was closed behind her.


End file.
